Miyazaki Rising: A Story of Power, Prison, and Sexual Harassment Part 4

We were a group of about 10 people—about 4 of us from the NY office, 4 from the LA office, and the 2 geezers—lady from DC, Miyazaki from Tokyo. We hit up a couple of ordinary-ish bars but they weren't entertaining enough to be fun to be in with these old geezers. So we ended up at Coyote Ugly.

The booby-licious girls at Coyote Ugly were standing on the bar dancing, grinding, pouring beer in the dancing masses' mouths. Our crew stood back a little, laughing but not really participating in the beer-guzzling except on our own.

Then the girls on stage starting pouring beer down each others' cleavages. They screamed and giggled and I don't remember if they licked the beer off of each others' shirts but I wouldn't be surprised if they did.

I felt something cold and wet on my shirt. I looked up, and there's Miyazaki with his beer bottle tipped over my chest. I stifled a scream, grabbed my co-worker's arm, and pulled her outside.

It was the most humiliating moment of my career. I was in Vegas, drenched in beer, standing outside a slutty club where a dirty old executive of the company I'd just started working for had treated me like one of his 17-year old hostess girlfriends.

Luckily, my NYC co-workers were amazingly supportive (and are still my good friends to date)—they walked me back to the hotel, listened to me cry and rant, and got me some dry clothes.

The next day, while Miyazaki was eating breakfast, my immediate boss made him stand up and apologize to me in front of everybody (including the company's namesake and president Mr. Yamada). Old, drunk Miyazaki didn't remember a thing from the night before.

To be continued...

(Read Miyazaki Rising: A Story of Power, Prison, and Sexual Harassment Part 3)